


never have i lied like you have

by frvits



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Implied America/England (Hetalia), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:22:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frvits/pseuds/frvits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Russia knows America is a liar when it comes to England.</p>
            </blockquote>





	never have i lied like you have

America is a liar, and Russia knows this.

The fact that America tends to fictionalize many things is nothing the American is trying to hide, he’s open about anything from his successes to his failures. But he’s a liar, and one who should be shamed for it.

“There’s nothing going on between us,” Russia had heard America talking to a friend a few hours earlier- one whose name was on the tip of Russia’s tongue, but couldn’t be remembered- behind a closed hotel room. Russia had been looking for the quick Latvia in a  _ playful _ game of tag, and stumbled past a slightly open door. He paused when he had heard America’s boisterous voice.

The timid voice responded so soft, Russia had to press his ear against the door. “ _ Alfie _ -”

“Don’t worry, Mattie,” America had said loudly.”Artie’s like my bro. That’s gross.”

Yes, America is a liar, Russia notes. He burrows into his coat, and lets his scarf tickle a large nose (one America has made enough jokes about-  and Russia kindly returned the favor by breaking his), as he watches the two down the hall.

America’s head rests on England’s back, as the island searches for his room key. It’s an awkward position since America is a few inches taller than England, and America seems a lot more off centered that usual. Perhaps he's drunk?

“Iggy,” The star spangled country slurs, and Russia watches carefully. America’s hands slip around England’s waist from behind, and whines.

England struggles with unlocking the door, and he looks a little more than irritated. “Move it, git.” She shoves America into the room. Before closing the door, green eyes lock on amethyst. Both pairs narrow and come with matching scowls, before the door slams shut.

Russia shifts his feet, and underneath, Latvia cowers. Serves him right, for trying to skip out on their game earlier. 

Russia digs his heel into his Latvian footrest (ignoring the whimper that comes from the pain), and thinks about America and what other lies he’s told.

* * *

 

“And that’s why I believe that our porn industry is the most efficient economy plan there is.  _ Ça vous dit? _ ” France says with a generous wink.

Russia doesn’t really care for where the meeting carries to after that mouthful of  words, and even though he’s taking notes, he’s not actually listening. As a matter of fact, his notes has drifted from the world’s various and endless problems to the one blond and blue-eyes problem sitting a few seats away.

The ex-Soviet stares as the western nation chews on his pen. The tip leaves America’s lips blue, but the nation hardly seems to notice, because his attention was on… oh.

Russia looks away. Green eyes raise an eyebrow towards him, before turning back towards chastising America once more.

* * *

 

Instead of being accidentally bumped into by a cowering micro country, Russia is pushed by the smell of a liar and sunshine.

America takes a step back. “ _ Whoa  _ there- oh. It’s you.”

“Silly Americans,” Russia closes his eyes when he smiles.”Never seem to know where they’re going. Perhaps it’s due to their terrible choices?”

America looks less amused than normal, which amuses Russia even more. “Move out my way, Ruski. I got somewhere to be.”

When America attempts to step past Russia, the nation blocks him. “That somewhere wouldn’t happen to be a lonely island, would it?”

“Hey!” America was always quick to defend his friends. “Iggy’s not lonely, when he has  _ me _ . The only one who is lonely here, is  _ you _ .” He pokes his finger into Russia’s chest.

The temperature drops a little, but neither seem to notice. Russia’s smile gets wider, with every poke. While America is definitely amusing, he has an interesting talent of becoming quite annoying quite fast.

“Nyet, silly one. I am not lonely,” Russia steps aside, giving America barely enough space to pass by. “But your  _ friend _ , most likely is. I suggest you go, before he remembers what a pain you are.”

America slides by, and sticks his tongue out, ever immature. Russia doesn’t mind, and he listens for the loud footsteps of America to fade. When it does, he lets out a breath he had been holding in.

* * *

 

There’s a time when it is so blatantly obvious that two people have passed that fine line between “friends” and “more than friends”. America and England seem to be toeing said line dangerously, going cautiously on one side just to jump back to the other.

Russia is not amused when he sees the two sitting at the meeting table after the meeting. Russia had left one of the pages to his notes and went back, only to stop to catch America and England murmuring to themselves. America’s head rests on the Brit’s shoulder, and their hands are clasped together in their laps.

“ Zdravstvuyte,” Russia says formally in greeting, as he picks up the paper.

America mumbles something to England, whose eyes are narrowed on the Russian. They like watching- watching Russia all the time. Russia hates the color green anyway (his favorite color falling among the yellow of sunflowers and a certain shade of blue), and he thinks the eyes are a waste on a such an ugly face.

When Russia leaves the room, he closes the door, and clenches his fist around the papers in his hand.

America is a liar. There is definitely something going on between him, and that worthless Englishman. 

  
  
  



End file.
